Tag Archives: transformation

Unpredictable

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The days spiral into summer
despite my feeling
that the spring is unwound,
that we’re done with cycles,
now catapulting off in some unknown direction,
no longer able
to predict anything

Yet I already can feel
the rolling into fall, feel the prick
of cool upon my skin, the smell
of turning leaves

I just don’t know in what way
we’ll be there with them,
whether we’ll be able to pull our feet
into the capsule and shut the door
so as to be along for the ride.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 29, 2020

End Game

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I don’t know how this ends,
don’t know how we can go back
to being as we were,
don’t know, either,
if there’s enough of a way forward
to see us through the fire

And I don’t want us to pass through
without being transformed –
crucible purified, phoenix transfigured,
rising out of the ashes
with nothing of our former bondage,
chains gone, rags burnt away,
so the shining truth of us
stands clear.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 2, 2020

Approach

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I envision you
welcomed into light,
welcomed home,
seen
in a lucidity and depth
you’d never known before

I feel you soften,
relax into the comfort and the confidence,
bask in recognition and appreciation,
and in the pleasure
of delighting all your company

I see you there
because each day
I feel a little closer to it –
as I approach this truth,
day by day, I feel
closer, too, to you.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 13, 2020

The End of the World

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I reckon many of us
would not mind
the end of the world —

The un-quibble-able finality of it,
the sudden change,
the necessary dropping
of the hundred little burdens
we each carry through our days

The excitement of it,
the call of something deeper,
long sleeping, in our beings,
something that would rise up
if only in that crashing moment

The hope is that it would be quick,
not some drawn out monotony of suffering
(though even there we would be honed,
and even there we’d mount the struggle
to survive)

The hope is
we would see
our loved ones again,
and laugh together
about the long strange trip.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 14, 2020

Ripping the Veil

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If stars are pinpricks
in the sheet of night,
if everywhere there is a tear
reveals a burst of light,
if every glimpse of truth
calls forth a clearer sight,
let’s look again to see
what things are made of

Across the waves, across the sky,
in every blink between the views,
there is a place where we can try
to change the focus, find new clues

To rip the veil, to see beyond
the playbook written for our lives,
to where the wonder cracks the seams
and wells up in our hearts and minds,
and from our gait within the rhythmic beat
we have to stop

because this life is far more brilliant
than what we could describe.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 25, 2020

The Reign of Truth

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Helplessness is not
an acceptable option.
In the realm of myself,
I take a stand
for the reign of truth

And in small flashes
it seems obvious
that truth is really the only thing
that can actually be
in a place, in a time

And no matter how big
a lie claims to be, it can’t occupy
the ground where truth is.
And if truth is here
(and how could it not be?)
it must assert its essence,
must be seen as what determines being

And however intricate
a web of falsity may be,
it can’t take hold on truth —
something that’s false cannot ensnare
something that’s really there

So in small flashes
I can notice
that no problems of the world,
or of the neighborhood,
or of the heart,
can hold back the unfolding of the truth.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 13, 2019

Always

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There will always be a pause,
because the loud shrieks and clamor
of all that tries to claim power
are not continuous, cannot sustain themselves

They start and stop,
as earthquakes, wind, or fire,
as sobs, as tirades, as things hurled,
and there is always a pause —
a curling up, the empty end of a breath,
the spring uncoiled, the flat repose of shards

And in that silence
still as winter, still as ice,
the crystal music will arise

It fills the whole field instantly,
interlocks the harmony of molecules,
sounds the depth, the space, the peace
that owns the matrix of existence

There always is a pause —
and everyone can find it —
that leads us to our home, infinity.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 3, 2019

Little Window

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And after the thick of the storm,
like a little blue window
amid the clouds rolling and roiling —
a window that may disappear
many times before the clouds clear
and blue displays its winning infinite —

Somewhere before the dark has fully ended,
that blue window of truth
will give you hope,
and the storm’s narrative
will slowly cease to matter,
its irrelevance apparent as it dissipates,
and you can hold on,
for once you’ve seen it,
you won’t believe in darkness anymore.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 1, 2019

The shapes are not the light

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If you brought them all together —
all the moments, from many different lives,
where the dream was broken through
and the light poured in —

You would see many different shapes —
a death, a near death, a psychedelic trip,
the answer to a prayer offered
from the very depths,
a gift of life received, the gratitude invoked —

The shapes are not the light.
Light can come through anything.
And what you do with the dream
after seeing the light
is not trivial. There is guidance
to be found, about how this is done,
guidance, and guides,
along the upward way.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 26, 2019

This Changes Everything

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Streams of living waters,
rivers of pure light —
we speak of it in metaphors,
for how else can we convey
the feeling, and the importance of it,
the way we’re borne up
in the swift current,
the way it fills us
and lifts us
and becomes that which we are

And if we thought love
was a distant spark
that might or might not ignite,
if we thought love depended on
finding someone, or being found,
if we thought love was anything less than
the fountain of life itself,
or anywhere less than right here,
this changes everything.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 29, 2019